


We're Okay.

by thatsrightdollface



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Character Study, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Post-Canon, This is super self-indulgent, oops oh geez I can't believe I forgot to tag, spoilers for the movie!!!!, the major character death is Pink Diamond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 18:33:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20783195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsrightdollface/pseuds/thatsrightdollface
Summary: Some takes on what Spinel could do with Pink Diamond’s haunted old garden.





	We're Okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there~!!! :D I hope you enjoy this, if you read it. I apologize for any mistakes I might’ve made. I really wanted to write Spinel a happy fic, but this came out kinda bittersweet/more complicated than that... NEXT time it'll be a happy fic!!! 
> 
> Have a wonderful day!

  1. Leave it Be 

  
When she first moved in with the other Diamonds – her own Pink Diamond’s companions, so-so-_so_ long ago even if six thousand years was just some spare change to them – Spinel tried not to think too much about the garden where she’d waited for her Best Friend at all. It was engraved, fallen-apart and ruined on the inside of her eyelids. It followed her all the time, with its crumpled flowers and cracked stone, its silence stretching until it buzzed like sound and Spinel’s own voice was the loudest thing in the universe. Counting seconds. Murmuring to herself, — (trying not to move too much or that might ruin the game Pink Diamond had told her they were playing) — “Alright, Pink... I’m not peeking or anything, but I bet you’ve won by _now_, right?” 

Of course no one answered. There was the garden, and the stars wheeling relentlessly above it, and Spinel holding so still she could feel her floppy clown shoes sinking into the earth. Heavy with roots and dirt and dust and —

Spinel hadta try and believe in the _new_ things she saw now, though, right? She was gonna learn about this palace where the Diamonds had a room waiting for her; she was gonna figure out everything that could make her new friends laugh. She was supposed to be a friend, and _she would learn to be a friend again._ Sometimes Spinel slipped, sure — the hurt still ached like veins of poison winding through her, after all, when her mind wandered back to it again — but in the end... Aw. 

In the end, Spinel wanted to pour as much of herself into friendship as she could. She had felt drained so dry except for that poison, not too long ago. Not even a century, nevermind six thousand years! But her heart was kinda like her own injector, in more ways than just the look and the burning weaponry of it all. Spinel could fill the thing right back up again, it turned out. Lookit that!

Spinel could already love again. She could already believe in people again, or, y’know, try really, _really_ hard to. She had apologized to Steven Universe, Pink Diamond’s organic son, as he’d helped her to her feet… And he’d smiled at her, even after – uh. After everything that happened. Steven had understood what Spinel meant when she said she had work to do. How friendship – while it meant everything to her, while it had been her purpose and her very first thought when she’d sprung out of the planet – would be difficult, now. He had led Spinel to people who actively wanted her around, and she hadn’t really known what to say to him, then. But maybe she hadn’t needed any words at all... Maybe that moment wasn’t about being entertaining or useful or anything like that. A wobbly smile and a peace sign over her shoulder. Spinel had given what felt real, and Steven had looked at her like that was enough. 

It was exciting and woozy and strange, relearning how it was to be around lots of Gems all the time. Spinel posed for Blue Diamond’s Pearl when she asked to draw her; she and Yellow Pearl made a game of it, and they’d all ended up cackling on the floor — or, in Blue Pearl’s case just sort of snickering? — after attempting a really ambitious balancing pose. (Blue Pearl seemed happy with her picture in the end, Spinel thought, so don’t worry.) She sat for a while talking with everybody in Blue Diamond’s Pool Chamber, too, perching on a floaty toy Steven had apparently left there after one of his visits from Earth, and she mimed melting into a puddle of wiggly goo in the heat radiating from Yellow Diamond’s Extraction Room. It had been surprising, hearing her audience laugh again, then. So far, so good. Spinel had frozen for a second, watching, before pulling herself back together. The jokes were coming more naturally, now. She and Steven’s floaty toy had a whole back-and-forth puppet thing going. 

Sometimes, though, Spinel wandered around Pink Diamond’s chambers as if she were watching flickering afterimages acting themselves out all around. Lotsa memories and all that, so real Spinel could taste them. Tears in the back of her throat, and smells that would always remind her of what home had been, once. Those memories couldn’t make Spinel laugh, not at first, not even the very best ones. She held a hand, shaking just a little, over her flipped upside-down heart. Sometimes when Spinel cried in Pink Diamond’s rooms, hunched by the human bed her Pebbles had built for Steven Universe, Blue Diamond curled an enormous hand against her back to steady her. They cried together and compared memories in whispery voices. 

Spinel had chambers all her own, too, of course, just as the Diamonds had promised. She didn’t hang around Pink Diamond’s stuff _all_ the time. She didn’t spend _every_ day hiding by herself, trying not to drown too completely in a shame spiral, trying not to rage too bitterly against people she knew were working to be on her side. Gems invited Spinel places, now, and called out her name sometimes... People asked her opinions about things, and... so far... the other Diamonds still seemed to enjoy her handstands and stuff. She worked for their smiles, and learned their problems, listened to their worries like she had tried to do for Pink Diamond once. Even if it hadn’t been enough, or carried out just the right way, or... mm. Spinel hoped it would be enough, now. She was worth keeping around, right? She was happy to help, however she could. This was fun. 

...This _was_ fun...

Life was busy and warmer than Spinel had believed it could ever be again, even if her heart hadn’t flipped back around to where it used to be — even if it might never be exactly the same as when she was first drawn out of the planet to be Pink’s friend. That would have to be okay. It was better than having to erase who she’d become to be a friend again; better than having to unlearn everything she knew to feel trust. Spinel played chase with the Amethyst guards, and she was there to welcome all the Rose Quartz-es that had been frozen above the human zoo back out of their bubbles and into the world. She could offer card games and goofy storytelling, juggling and old jokes she hadn’t dusted off in... well, about as long as Spinel hadn’t dusted _herself_ off, y’know? 

She tried, anyways. Can’t say Spinel didn’t try, even if her first impulse had been to hide her new self. Even if... tucked out of sight... the garden was always waiting. Once Spinel’s favorite place in all the cosmos, a special playground for her and her Best Friend ever. Once her prison, crumbling around her as she felt herself becoming someone new, and someone she had been afraid might not be good at all. But why _had_ Spinel been left there, exactly? It was a bit of a kick in the teeth that she would never know for sure, now, wasn’t it? There were so many things her Best Friend coulda done with her, so... why _that_?

Sometimes Spinel thought she might look for clues around Pink Diamond’s rooms — some kind of hidden secret that would explain why she hadn’t been worth honesty from the start, or friendship, or even just a chance to go back to Homeworld instead of spinning out in space possibly forever. She hadn’t found anything yet. Maybe she’d never find anything at all.

But Spinel was feeling better now, wasn’t she? She was okay. Or... probably, hopefully gonna be okay. She wrote Steven Universe a letter, after she’d been back on Homeworld a while. Sort of a “thank you,” sort of a “how’s it going?” sort of quietly checking in to see if he’d realized he hated her yet. An apology. It was another apology, and Spinel had sent it through the teleporter system. After just a couple hours, Steven wrote back. Spinel hadn’t completely let herself believe he would, but Pink Diamond’s organic son was sending her postcards and Earth desserts pretty regularly, now. Stickers with old-timey cartoon characters he said reminded him of her on them. Invitations to concerts Spinel hadn’t worked up the nerve to say she’d go to yet. 

Maybe Steven actually wanted her around, too? In a way? And not just because he was nice, either, even though Spinel had realized he really super was. He’d wrapped an arm around her so _protectively_, carrying her out of that injector blast, and now — haha. It was tough to believe, after the poison, after his planet and his happily-ever-after and… you know… but the notes came all the same. Steven apologized too, actually, for being so tired when he’d been trying to understand Spinel. He wondered if he could have handled things better, himself. Warmly, attentively, the way he’d first offered friendship to some of the other Gems who tried to kill him. 

_“I hope the Diamonds aren’t giving you too much trouble,”_ Steven wrote, and Spinel wrote back, _“Aw, no way! I’ve been teaching them some games — Yellow Diamond gets into tic-tac-toe like you wouldn’t believe.”_

_“Here’s a moon rock Connie brought back from her second attempt at Space Camp! She got enough for all our friends,”_ Steven wrote, and Spinel wrote back, _“Oh geez. Thank you! I dunno what to say,”_ and then, after a little while of thinking what would be an okay gift to send back, _“Here’s some moon rocks for you, too… I’ve been picking ‘em up when we visit old colonies and stuff, whenever they’re on moons. Maybe Connie’s Second Attempt at Space Camp would want them?”_

Spinel had set the Earth-ish moonrock on her windowsill, and looked at it sometimes when it didn’t feel too weird or awful to remember that place. It was a dull greyish thing, knobby and cold and precious. Steven had set it aside for her. He had remembered her when listing out all his friends, even after the way they’d met. Even though she’d only just recently felt ready to try and be a friend to him again. Sometimes Spinel looked at the rock from Earth’s moon and remembered kicking Steven hello in the face. She winced away, then. Chewed the inside of her gummy lip. She’d tried to kill him, but now she was gonna doodle comics for him featuring random things that had happened around the palace that day. Go figure.

But even so —

Even so, somewhere out in the dead hollow of space, Pink Diamond’s garden spun on. Empty, now, but just as dark and still as it had been when Spinel was trapped there. Turning and turning, abandoned to the dark.

Sure Spinel tried not to think about it, but... Hm. It came back, when she was quiet. When she closed her eyes. It came back, and she felt her smile grow strained, for a second, or slip off completely, like bits of pie after she’d just gotten hit in the face. Like in some Earth clown acts, get it? Steven’d been catching her up, lately. 

And maybe that was how it ended, with the garden exiled to the edge of Spinel’s mind. To the deep of space. 

Or maybe — 

  1. Tear it Down

Spinel was traveling with Yellow Diamond in her crackling arm-ship when she first caught sight of Pink Diamond’s garden again... _their_ garden, once upon a time... out among the stars. It just looked like a stray, cold satellite on their sensors, not blinking any messages, not awake at all. Unless a Gem knew what it was — and _then_ maybe thought about what all Pink coulda abandoned there, hm? — it was true it would’ve been easy to rocket on by. Spinel had been perched on the arm of Yellow’s throne, swinging her legs and chatting... but of course she went very quiet when she realized where they were. 

Spinel knew the garden’s location impossibly well, ya know. So many ships must have passed by this way while she was waiting and not had any idea why they mighta possibly stopped. She used to watch those ships go by, back then, and imagine what all they could be up to. Imagine Pink was in one of them, for example, coming back the long way around to surprise her. 

In retrospect, Spinel _could_ have signaled those ships, if she’d been willing to let Pink Diamond down. If she’d stopped playing the game a little sooner, before Steven’s message to the universe, before everything came apart warped and toxic and new. But Spinel looked back on the self she used to be and couldn’t completely imagine doing that. She’d watched the garden rot around her, something beautiful and friendly become a festering place. She’d watched the emptiness, as ships too far away to recognize went off on their own unknowable adventures. 

Pink had asked her to wait — _Pink was gonna come back —_

Yellow Diamond noticed when Spinel glossed over, bubbly elastic voice choked in her throat, arms untwisting from whatever dramatic gesture they’d been making to drop all noodly and helpless at her sides. Spinel scolded herself. She thought, _“Hey you, you’re scaring your friend,”_ and tried to close her fallen-open mouth. Tried to pick up the train of conversation again. A sick, flipping-over feeling moved through her in waves, though, and looking away from the window was turning out to be kinda stupidly hard.

“Spinel? What’s wrong?” Yellow Diamond demanded, and Spinel knew her imperiousness there was just a particular flavor of concern. Yellow Diamond held out a hand for Spinel to climb on, to lift her up and get a better look at her face. Spinel shuffled forward and tried for a smile. It came out shaky and unfinished-feeling, like Spinel was one of her own unpracticed doodles of herself. Her handwriting had been twirly and fancy, once, but she was so out of practice by now. Steven Universe didn’t seem to mind. He said Pink Diamond’s former Pearl helped him parse out Spinel’s old-fashioned Gem script sometimes, but that the way she drew Pink Pearl and all the Diamonds was very cute.

See, the thing was, Yellow Diamond and Spinel were on the way to one of the Gem empire’s old colonies to gather supplies personally for some Important Palace Renovations... and also just a _little bit_ to see a general of hers Yellow Diamond had always been especially fond of. Somebody she was soft for, it seemed like, who she hadn’t seen too much of since disbanding her armies. There weren’t a lot of people who could make Yellow Diamond feel soft, so Spinel was super curious, now. 

But there. The garden. The garden, again, and Yellow Diamond ordered the ship be stopped until she understood what had gotten Spinel upset. It felt like such a tender, gentle thing to do. 

If she were honest with herself, Spinel had wondered off and on why Pink Diamond’s human zoo had become a sort of shrine — Blue Diamond’s nostalgia and love and remembrance, all that — but the garden had been left to wither alone. Why nobody’d ever stopped by, even just to tend to the flowers and think about how Pink had loved them, once. Sometimes it felt a little — sometimes _people sorta hinted_ — that Pink Diamond had told everyone something happened to the garden. Happened to Spinel. But maybe that was just... paranoia? Pain like poison still bubbling under her skin, out of sight but still a part of how she saw the world. Maybe. Blue Diamond had called Spinel one of Pink’s “Lost Treasures,” in the end. If the other Diamonds could have found her sooner, Spinel truly wanted to believe they woulda been there in a jiffy.

“That’s where I was waiting,” Spinel said, her arm stretching out to tap at the bit of window directly in front of the garden. To circle its one special patch of emptiness. She would know these stars anywhere — she would have known the garden anywhere at all. A smear of darkness on their ship’s sensors, where something dead was floating. A ghost place. 

Yellow Diamond squinted, and then said, “Hm. You know, this ship still has sufficient weaponry to destroy a thing like that, if it brings you pain.” 

And ya know what? The garden _had_ brought pain, plenty of the stuff. Yeah. It had become a stranger, and then a monster all around Spinel, reflecting how much time had passed since she’d been left behind. Spinel knew Yellow Diamond had wanted to destroy the Earth itself, when it brought her only bad memories – she knew Yellow had been building a geo-weapon deep under the planet’s crust, something squirming and painful and built of a hundred thousand broken selves. Yellow had thought seeing Earth splatter into faceless pieces would make it mean less. Then she would never have to go back there, after all; then she’d never have to think about it hurtling around in the dark as she was busy trying to move on.

Spinel had already smashed the communicator screen, back in that garden. The screen where she’d first learned about Pink Diamond’s brand new planet, and heard Steven’s message. Splintering that screen in a fit of hurt and screaming — (splintering that screen in a direct attempt not to attack Steven Universe! ... lookit how well _that_ had gone) — had been one thing, though. But imagining the garden disappeared completely… Dang, it made Spinel’s insides squirm, and part of her wanted to cry. That place was important; it had been theirs; it had been her favorite spot in the cosmos for some of the years that would always, always mean the most to her. There were reasons Spinel hadn’t destroyed the garden before, when she’d first gone to claim her injector and confront Pink Diamond’s replacement. 

But even so — even so, another seething-beneath-the-surface part of Spinel did wanna know what it would feel like to scrub that ruined place off the map for good. She’d already mourned that garden and all the fun times there. She’d already been thinking of it as a lost thing. Maybe she’d think about it less, if she and Yellow Diamond shattered it to dust? 

Maybe this would be like when that team of human ghost investigators chased away the phantom haunting the old mine, in a comic Steven had sent Spinel a while back – something from this “Camp Pining Hearts” franchise his friends Peridot and Lapis Lazuli were into. Steven had sent the comic because it was about renewal and growth, and there was a clown character who showed up for a little while at somebody’s “Birthday Party” (whatever exactly that was?) that he’d thought Spinel might like. She had liked the clown, and she’d liked how clear and fresh everything in the comic felt once the ghost was gone. A weight lifted off all the human campers’ shoulders. A new day. It had been kind of Steven to write Gem script on sticky-notes over all the speech bubbles, so Spinel would be able to understand.

Spinel said, “Is it just like, we punch a button or somethin’? Easy-peasy?”

And Yellow Diamond smiled at her, a melty, gentle smile. A friend. She said, “It would be easy enough to engage the weapon systems, Spinel. You _do_ remember what this ship was used for before Steven returned to us, right?”

Spinel remembered, sure, even if… back in the day… she had wanted to play more than she’d wanted to understand the cosmic goings-on of the Great Diamond Authority and their empire. Even if some of those thoughts and observations had dripped off her back like water off Steven’s pool floaty toy. 

But that might have been how it went, you know – maybe Spinel nodded grimly and shoved all thought of how much she had used to love that garden away. Maybe she let the burning spread through her. She could be free of this. She could _never be trapped in that place again_, whatever happened, not after she asked Yellow Diamond to show her which button she’d slam her fist down on to finally get rid of that floating prison once and for all.

Maybe she’d stare, shaking, as the patch of solid emptiness on their ship’s sensors finally dissolved. So many thousands of years spent memorizing the tangled roots, the brambles, the cracked pillars there. So many thousands of years spent building herself into that place until she worried she could never truly leave it behind. 

But there. Bam. Gone! And then Yellow Diamond was saying, “Good work, Spinel! I’m proud of you.”

_I’m proud of you._

We’re happy to have you with us, now, whatever happened before. Remember that.

And presto-change-o, the face of the universe became different, somehow. 

Unless –

  1. Make a Plan

Unless... of course... it was possible Spinel’s hand jerked back at the last second, as if she’d been burned — twitching away like organic stuff trying to escape her own poison back on Earth. It’s possible she didn’t shoot any of Yellow Diamond’s sparkly missiles or whatever at that old garden after all, or maybe she gasped “Call it off! Yellow, can we call it off?!” as soon as the shots were fired.

That garden had made Spinel so proud, once. She had truly believed playing there helped set Pink Diamond free of all the nasty things back on Homeworld — she had done her best to entertain her and keep her from getting lonely. _A refuge._ Spinel had wanted more than anything to be a release, an ally, a refuge —

Shoot. _You_ know: a friend. 

It had meant everything to be a friend, even if Spinel hadn’t realized when things were going as funny as they did — when Pink had been after something else, filled with new feelings Spinel hadn’t understood... When she’d drifted so far away she might never, ever have wanted to come back on her own. 

The ghosts of the plants Pink had asked for were still crumbling around that garden. Pink had wanted it, and she’d had it built for them, and then she left it behind, too. 

But maybe part of Spinel would always love what had come before, even if it might be easier not to. Even if she said she was doing alright without it. Even if she was doing alright again, somehow, after all. 

_“Poor garden,”_ Spinel might have thought. _“I didn’t expect this for you, either.”_

And then... even if she didn’t understand... Yellow Diamond would have smiled, softer than she used to, and ordered off those sizzling weapons systems of hers. They’d head on to the old colony where Yellow’s former general was waiting, and all those odds and ends for Important Palace Renovation Time. Spinel would hop up on Yellow’s arm rest again, and twist her hand into a telescope, peering out at the stars beyond. Putting on an excited voice, even if it trembled a little bit. Getting ready for their adventure — up, up, and away, all that. If they stopped by any moons, she’d be sure to gather a handful of rocks for Steven Universe... and if thinking about those rocks made her feel too vulnerable, she’d just hide them at the very bottom of her luggage, under her juggling set and balloon organic life form kit.

When she got back home, Spinel found a little pile of letters waiting for her. Ones from Pink Pearl, because she’d missed her while she was away and wanted to write down some thoughts before she forgot them... One an invitation from a squadron of Amethyst guards to participate in a human sports wrestling league they were forming to compete against the one from Little Homeworld on Earth. One from Blue Diamond, who had been writing pensive poetry and wanted to know what Spinel thought; one from White Diamond, who had been drawing up even more plans for what their Important Palace Renovations were gonna be like. And one from Steven Universe, updating Spinel on the planet she’d hated before she ever saw it. He asked her what was new, and told her about what he and his other friends had been up to, and said he hoped Yellow and her favorite general had gotten along okay. 

(Spinel had told him a little bit about their mission, see, and when Steven called her Yellow Diamond’s “wingman, or wing-Gem or something” she’d been very, very proud. That’s exactly what she’d always wanted to be! The friend who built you up, who made you brave. She’d honestly almost started to cry.)

And maybe Spinel would respond to her letters, one by one, saying hi to everybody in the palace who seemed to want a “hi” from her and making quips, twisting some of the creatures she and Yellow had seen out of balloons so Pink Pearl could get a real good look at them. Maybe she analyzed Blue Diamond’s work with her, and maybe she unpacked her bag, carefully lining up all the new moon rocks she’d found for Steven Universe on the teleporter pad. And then she responded to _his_ letter, Pink Diamond’s organic son, still carrying her Gem around worked into his human skin. She started out just wanting to tell him the fun stuff — how she’d done as a wing-Gem, whether Yellow and her general had new plans to meet up, responding in detail to whatever goofy things had happened around Beach City — but... oops. She ended up spilling out a little too much of her heart, too. She’d seen the garden again in real life, and she’d almost destroyed it. Did she _want_ to destroy it? Would she just regret anything she did, anything at all? Why did she want to hurt things so badly one second, and then hold them to her chest very, very tightly the next? 

It wouldn’t have been easy, telling anybody in her new life about all that nonsense. Even Yellow Diamond didn’t know all of it, right? It might’ve felt like a contamination, at this point, while it was still pretty dang fresh. But Steven already knew so much of it; Steven had been there, the last time Spinel wanted to destroy.

Perhaps Spinel sent Steven the letter on purpose. Or perhaps she looked at it and thought, _“Haha. No way!” _and crumpled it up for a while. Maybe she sent the letter with a burning all through her — poison under the surface of her world, you remember — or maybe some of the Pebbles were trying to be helpful and sent the moon rocks (plus that letter) while she was stomping around the halls outside, trying to psych herself up to give that human wrestling league thing a try.

Maybe. 

Let’s say, either way, the letter got itself sent. And let’s say Steven responded before Spinel could instigate an Earth Heist to get her words back, or something. Steven said he didn’t know what Spinel wanted, really, but that it sounded like she wanted something to change. That things were getting better — Spinel was okay, she was okay — but that maybe there was something unfinished, here. Maybe she had a point, about this feeling sort of like banishing that mine-ghost in the “Camp Pining Hearts” comic. But the way he saw it, there was more than one way to change the garden, now. If the memory of it wasn’t fading well enough on its own, and if destroying it might just make Spinel feel awful once it was over, maybe there was something else they could do. 

Spinel stared for a long time at those words — something else _they_ could do. Something they could do together; something she wouldn’t be attempting all by herself, even if she was still trying to learn her world again. She flipped through that “Camp Pining Hearts” comic Steven had sent her one more time, finding the pages that had made her feel hopeful... The pages that came once the ghost was gone, and once the camp was full of light. Strings of electric baubles swayed on the trees, for example; a sky full of stars sprawled out above them all, but the camp was bright enough that they didn’t seem small. It was all so warm and strange and cheerful. A human campfire. These sustenance thingies called “s’mores,” which Spinel had actually tried, once. Steven had sent over a bunch of freshly-cooked ones, after he and some of his human friends went camping. Just knowing the existence of s’mores had made Pink Pearl gag, but Spinel loved how the marshmallow stretched into gooey ribbons between her fingers.

Spinel’s next letter was mostly about how an Earth/Little Homeworld theater performance Steven had told her about was going — it sounded so fun, to be honest. Fun enough that she almost wanted to ask for a ticket to see the show. But after a couple weeks, Spinel wrote again, because she had an idea for the garden. She didn’t wanna assume anything, it just felt like Steven might like knowing, right? And... heh. It was possible the guy actually seemed a little excited. He offered to help, and maybe bring along some Earth games, too. If Spinel wasn’t opposed, of course. 

How about that?

  1. Fix it Up

Steven and a bunch of his Crystal Gems — Pink Diamond-slash-Rose-Quartz’s _other_ friends, mostly, and some new faces Steven’d vouched for — came by with shovels and potted flowers, shears to trim the vines and flickery lights to hang over everything just like they, too, were in a real emotionally charged Canadian Earth summer camp comic. They came already chatting, hurrying around, surrounding Spinel with life. Going back _there_ with all of them still left her shivery and sick, jumping at sounds, just a bit, and trying not to look too haunted... But she went back on purpose all the same. She laughed nervously when the Peridot winced and said it was “All so much more _depressing_” than she’d imagined. Spinel said, “Ya better believe it! I _know_ depressing,” in what she hoped was a bouncy, easy voice. It came out wrong, but the Peridot knew she was trying to play around and snickered anyway. For politeness sake.

Some of Spinel’s new friends came, too, though she hadn’t insisted they drop everything for the whole shindig or anything like that. She’d let ‘em know about it, just a little, and now... whoa. The place seemed so crowded, with Pink’s other friends and the Diamonds and a whole wrestling team worth of Amethysts around. It trembled with voices and footsteps, shaking up all the floating-garden dust. Steven’s human friends helped remake the place even just by breathing. 

These were _new_ _memories_, ya know? Even just gathering here; even just going around in a lopsided circle and introducing everybody with something Steven’s Earth friend Sadie Killer called a “Big Donut Icebreaker Game.” (No ice was broken. Absolutely none.) This was all something fresh Spinel coulda never possibly dreamed of, back when her floppy shoes were still growing roots here. The first set of new memories, to build the garden into whatever came next, if they could manage it. They couldn’t go back, but maybe they could chase a couple shadows away. 

That’s what Steven and Spinel had been writing back and forth about, for a little while, lately. This was the first time they’d seen each other in person since Spinel had gone back to Homeworld with the Diamonds — since she’d first wanted to learn friendship again with a clean-ish slate. Spinel had worried this actual reunion would be painfully, spaceship-crashing-ly awkward. She’d worried Steven would be diligent but cold, here ‘cause he thought he had to smooth over more of his mom’s mistakes — and maybe this was all a _new_ kinda mistake, too, and Spinel was being trouble, and it wasn’t like Steven didn’t have better things to do. Other people he was better off spending time with. Spinel’d been telling herself that sort of thing, off and on, as if bracing herself for a painful impact. Gritting her teeth and peeking out the corner of her eyes.

But Steven came jogging up to Spinel with some ideas for what flowers to plant where; Steven said, “If it turns out you’re not ready to do this yet, when we get there, we can always try again later,” and he sounded exactly like he might have in one of his letters. Steven looked a little different — taller, maybe? — but still mostly the same. Crooked smile, gentle eyes. So like her Best Friend... so like Pink... and yet in other ways nothing like her at all. 

Spinel wanted to hug him, then, propping her chin on his shoulder and drawling “Aw, you’re alright, ya know that, Universe?” ... But she wasn’t quite there yet. What if Steven pulled away? What if he only hugged her back out of sympathy, out of obligation or guilt or...

Spinel said, “_Thank you,_ Steven. For everything,” instead, and when he patted her arm she twisted her wrist around in a loop-de-loop to squeeze his hand. No, friendship wasn’t easy, now. Spinel had been right. Trusting people wasn’t nearly as easy as it used to be, and it was so hard not to snap all defensively and stir up the old poison before anyone could disappoint her again. But it was worth it. Of course rebuilding love over all that hurt was gonna be worth it.

The Peridot and her Lapis Lazuli friend had made a playlist to listen to while they rebuilt the garden into something tender and cared for again. People danced — one human talked about something called a “Rave” with little glowy sticks? — and they squirted each other with a rubbery garden hose they’d brought. Pink Diamond’s old Pearl turned out to be very concerned with _measuring everything_, too. But they’d waited until Spinel gave a go-ahead before starting in on anything like that. She’d had been the first one to stick a shovel back into that ruined ground, after all. Everyone had been very quiet, waiting, rooted to the dirt just like she had been once, as she situated herself over that shovel and closed her eyes. Getting ready. Counting the seconds. Thinking “hello” and “goodbye” all at once. 

And then Spinel had said, “Fwip!” — a sound effect, ya know — and tossed a shovelful of dirt over her shoulder. Steven Universe clapped first. It happened so quickly, maybe other people mighta thought it was somebody else. But Spinel knew. She knew, and she also knew she wasn’t expected to say or do anything in particular about it at all.

And then, the music. The life. The voices. Bit by bit, cracked stone by overgrown flower patch, they made that garden _something else_. A little bit of the friendly garden Spinel had loved once, sure... and a little bit not. If Spinel let it, maybe this garden could belong to a future, too. It was possible someday they’d put on Earth-style plays here; it was possible someday part of the center area would be ringed off and used for those human wrestling championships. New games. Plenty of new games could grow here, fresh and impossible and honestly always kinda bittersweet. Spinel was different now, after all. Even beautiful things didn’t taste like they used to.

But when Spinel went off to sit on her own for just a second, watching more plants arrive dragged out of Pink Diamond’s garden on Earth — a garden that’d helped _replace_ her, just like these new friends, just like this organic son and this role as a big-shot revolutionary Spinel had never even gotten a chance to prove she could side with... well. Steven flopped down next to her and offered an Earth soda can just like his. The drink tingled, sharp and chemical, sweet and strange like memory. “Taste” and “food” were funny things. Steven knew Spinel liked to try new games well enough by now, didn’t he? He had offered her a flavor with a pun in its name, and they snickered over it together, softly. Almost like this was a normal thing to do.

Spinel thanked Pink Diamond’s son — thanked Steven — for the drink, and she glanced up at all the endless stars. Her lip twitched, threatening tears or a smile or maybe a little of both. Steven said it was really no problem at all, and Spinel asked what the cute little logo on the soda can meant. Her voice hitched, but he didn’t say anything about it at all. 

“There’s a funny story behind that, actually —“ Steven said. Shifting around to face her. Talking with his hands. 

A funny story sounded _perfect_, right about now, here in this formerly abandoned place. Spinel listened... surrounded by voices, where her own whisper might finally seem so small. Spinel listened, and laughed, and interjected goofy commentary where it seemed appropriate. 

Spinel did her best to let herself feel okay. 


End file.
